


Stars

by Biodiversity (SoraSato)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fights, Natural Philosophy, Non-Consensual Touching, Sex, Zen Master
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26213287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoraSato/pseuds/Biodiversity
Summary: Philip Hawke receives another unsavory task but it results in a stunningly odd encounter...Created in 2011.
Relationships: Male Hawke/Hero of Ferelden
Kudos: 1





	Stars

The unsavory man was leering.

“So, we agree then? The travelers don’t reach their destination?”

Philip silently nodded.

“Then your reward will be waiting for you here in the docks. See you soon.”

And he vanished.

Pondering on the deal, Philip came back to the Hanged Man, their favorite haunt.

He told of it to his companions, adding:

“Something stinks there, and it’s not just the man’s breath. Practically no information, just the place and time, and a vague description…”

Anders shook his head.

“Maybe we shouldn’t get involved then?”

Philip frowned.

“On the contrary, we _should_ get involved. To see what it’s all about.”

He considered his options.

“Here is what we’ll do. I’ll take Beth, Varric and Fen to the ambush spot, Anders and Isabela, you go after the weasel, try to see what he’s up to. Aveline, try the City Council, maybe they know of these travelers.”

And the company split.

Philip was getting nervous. No travelers to speak of, and it was way past after noon.

Fenris stirred and silently motioned to the far end of the road where it bent out of the view.

Hawke just managed to catch sight of a dark-red figure disappearing behind a hill.

“Looks like they’ve spotted us…” he breathed and started moving through the bushes in the direction of the sighting.

Fenris looked perturbed.

“But how…?”

His companion shrugged.

“You ask _me_?”

They crept along the mountain pass until dense undergrowth blocked their way.

But when they turned uphill to outflank the boscage, they bumped face to face with the figure in dark red they’ve spotted earlier.

She was a stunning young woman with shaven head and exquisite features on her tan face. Her lucid blue-grey eyes were so piercing that it seemed they could slice a rock. She wore a red leather jumpsuit that accentuated her svelte figure and was holding a slightly curved bare blade.

A lithe blond man stood behind her, the markings on his face and arms suggesting he was an Antivan assassin. The pair looked ready to fight, but did not seem aggressive.

The woman evaluated Philip’s group in a glimpse and turned her bright eyes onto their leader.

“Were you waiting for _me_?”

She asked in a deep melodious voice.

Varric chuckled.

“No, there was a nice sunny spot on that hill. Good for tanning!”

The woman inclined her head and looked at Philip.

“And what do _you_ say?”

His sixth sense told Philip that the woman before him was extraordinary in more than one ways. So he chose not to play games.

“Yes, milady. I guess it’s you we were waiting.”

The corners of the woman’s full lips flinched in a smile.

“And what were your orders?” she asked almost friendly.

He shrugged.

“To kill you and any of your companions.”

She scoffed.

“Then what’s stopping you? I’m outnumbered, and you have a mage at your side.”

Phiip raised his brows.

“I’d rather capture you and talk to you instead.”

The woman smiled, baring her beautiful white teeth.

“Is the capturing part necessary?”

Philip nodded.

“I believe so. My employer said you were dangerous.”

She laughed.

“Bet I am. Then let my companion go and I’ll be at your disposal.”

Philip shook his head.

“No can do, ma’am.”

The woman sighed.

“A pity.”

Her stare became cold as ice.

“Either we talk freely, or we fight.”

In other circumstances, Philip would have applauded her sang-froid.

Varric grumbled:

“Man, she’s got balls!” but his statement was ignored by both parties.

The woman and Philip got their stares locked on each other, neither of them giving in.

After a long moment, Hawke gestured towards a nearby glade, and said:

“You and me, alone.”

The woman inclined her head, then cast a glance at her companion, and followed the man to the glade.

“Will they fight?” whispered Bethany nervously, but no one answered.

At the glade, Philip turned to the woman.

“My name’s Philip Hawke,” he said, still evaluating his adversary.

The woman smiled.

“And you can call me Akasha.”

The man smirked.

“I can call you, or it is your name?”

“Does it matter?”

“Considering that your companion is watched closely by three of mine, I guess it’s time for you to start talking.”

She smiled.

“You assume too much, ser Hawke.”

Philip stirred.

“Ser? Are you Fereldan then?”

She nodded.

“As you are, obviously.”

Philip inclined his head.

“So. What brings you here, milady?”

She shrugged.

“Just passing through.”

Hawke felt a twinge of irritation.

“This goes nowhere.”

Her stare was clear and direct.

“What, you expect me to spill my guts in front of a complete stranger, and a hired bandit to boot?”

Philip unwillingly chuckled.

“Fair enough.”

Akasha examined him for a moment, then said:

“Tell you what, ser Hawke. How about I double your bounty and you escort me to Kirkwall with no incident?”

Philip curved his brow.

“And that’s all?”

“Yes, that’s all. After that each of us goes his way.”

“No deal. I want to know more before I decide.”

She cast him a calculating gaze.

“Oh, you will. If I know well my man, soon he'll get bored, distract your dwarf buddy with some silliness, then kill your sister by hurtling a tiny blade, then stick another blade in the dwarf's eye and cut the ears of that elf, because like all drunkards he has a reaction problem.”

Hawke frowned.

"Wait, how do you know…"

"About your sister? And lover? Easy enough. But think about this: if I've calculated all this at a glance, my Crow chum has certainly done so already. Now the question: will you stand in my way or escort me as I've kindly asked you to?"

The man was silent, trying to read the situation.

The woman in red watched him coolly, then smiled gently.

"I understand that your reputation as a reliable henchman may suffer, but I assure you that in a few days you will be held in much greater esteem than before."

He pondered on this. This Akasha seemed special somehow. He shrugged.

“Then let’s go.”

She smiled.

“A good answer. May I ask you, ser Hawke, are you always so nosy about your jobs?”

Philip paused to consider a response.

“Never, until today.”

“And what’s the occasion?”

He shrugged again.

“Something just felt off.”

She threw her head up.

“So it does. Let’s go, ser Hawke.”

They moved quietly through the undergrowth, when Akasha abruptly stopped.

She pointed to the other side of the track and whispered:

“Another ambush? Two teams then, eh? What else I should know, ser Hawke?”

Philip frowned and tried to discern any indication of ambush behind the trees.

“How do you spot them?” he asked, but then he himself felt a presence in that direction. “You’ve got amazing senses, milady.”

But the woman continued frowning.

“My question stands, ser Hawke. Are they your men?”

Philip shook his head.

“No. Probably, that weasel’s precaution.”

“Interesting, how you conduct your business here in Free Marches…” she mused aloud.

“Would you care to go say ‘hi’ to them as well?” asked Hawke, gripping the pommel of his blade.

The woman shrugged and shook her head.

“Does not feel right. Let me play it my way.”

And she went directly to the main road, acting unaware and carefree.

Philip nearly broke in sweat.

Varric exclaimed: “She is crazy!” but nevertheless jerked his Bianca off his shoulder.

As expected, the woman was soon surrounded by a dozen leering and jeering thugs.

After a brief exchange of un-pleasantries, Akasha started to move.

Philip found himself breathtaken. As he and his companions charged to her aid, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her, for she moved as if in a weightless dance, her two sabers a blur of lightning.

They engaged the assailants, and soon only their leader was left alive, but barely, squirming in the pool of his own blood.

At the end of the fight, Philip saw Akasha bow and only then sheath her blades.

“Is it some ritual of yours?” he asked, approaching.

The woman inclined her head.

“In a way,” and went to squat near the dying thug.

She sighed, seeing his suffering.

“With this kind of wound, I’ve seen people last up to three hours in agony. I can help you,” she said almost tenderly.

The thug spit bloody saliva on her jacket and groaned: “Fuck you bitch!”

Akasha sighed and stood up.

She stepped away from the man to clean herself up and approached Philip.

“Are you in any hurry?” she asked him, brushing off bits of white matter from her sleeve.

He shrugged.

“Not particularly. Are you?”

She looked at the sun.

“I've still got time. Let’s wait.”

She went to find her companion.

“Zev, what’s your reckoning?” she asked the blond lithe man.

The latter observed the agonizing thug and waved his hand.

“In about ten minutes he’ll be just right to sell his own mother.”

Akasha nodded.

“Then ten minutes it be.”

Philip approached them.

“A curious travelling companion you have here, milady,” he uttered, now openly eyeing the Antivan assassin.

The woman smiled.

“Indeed. Here’s Zevran Aranai, my friend. Zev, this is ser Philip Hawke, our guide.”

Philip squinted.

“Do I detect irony, milady? Would you’ve taken on twelve bandits all by yourself?”

Akasha arched her brow and smiled.

“The show was for you. I would’ve bypassed them.”

This evening at the Hanged Man, they found themselves a quiet corner table and ordered a copious supper.

Akasha did not drink much but looked around instead, examining her surroundings with open curiosity.

Varric glanced at her.

“First time in Kirkwall?”

“As well as in Free Marches,” she responded studying someone near the exit.

Philip chuckled.

“And already have a lot of friends. Mostly dead ones.”

Akasha switched her gaze to him.

“You are right, ser Hawke. It is most unfortunate.”

“So…” Philip brought a glass to his lips, “what are your plans, milady?”

She shrugged.

“Find out who higher on the food chain ordered this man to kill me…”

They were interrupted by Aveline, who stormed in and went directly to Philip.

“You wouldn’t believe who that damsel is!” she exclaimed, failing to notice their guests. “She is the Hero of Ferelden! The Lady Cousland!”

Philip’s brows shot up. Slowly, he turned to his guest.

“Indeed?” he drawled, staring at the woman. “Lady _Akasha_ _Cousland_?”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Aveline enthusiastically but stopped dead in her tracks, following the direction of his gaze.

In a few seconds, the implications of her discovery reached her brain.

The warrior woman dropped to her knee and lowered her head.

“Milady! Pardon me for this intrusion!”

Lady Akasha Cousland smiled ironically.

“Now that you’ve turned the attention of the whole tavern to my humble person, you may rise, soldier.”

Aveline blushed and stood there, feeling awkward and big, like a sore thumb.

“Have a seat,” uttered Akasha and poured her a drink. “Here, drink to the end of the Blight and tell us what else did you find out?”

Aveline hastily emptied her cup and cleared her throat.

“Well… I… I found out that you planned on visiting viscount before heading further north… I guess that’s all…”

Akasha nodded.

“And the purpose of my visit to the viscount?”

Aveline shook her head.

“They don’t know. Affairs of the state, I suppose?”

Akasha nodded again and turned to Hawke.

“Now, is your curiosity sated?”

Philip smiled.

“Not yet, ma’am...”

But they were interrupted once more by the arrival of Anders and Isabela.

Both of them, as well as Akasha and Zevran let out surprised exclamations.

“Oh Maker! Anders, Isabela! Look at you!”

They hugged and kissed.

Isabela squeezed Zevran’s butt and grinned at him luridly.

Philip contemplated for a while the emotional meeting and sighed.

“I’m missing out on something here.”

“Let me explain!” cried Isabela excitedly, while they took places around the table…

“So, how ‘bout for the ol’ times sake?” asked Isabela, her eyes on Zevran and Akasha.

Lady Cousland shook her head.

“You go ahead, Zev, I’d rather take a stroll in the city.”

Philip stirred. “A dangerous thing to do at night, milady.”

Akasha patted him on the hand.

“I’ll be fine.”

And she rose to her feet.

Hawke stood up too.

“I plan to escort my sis to our hiding hole, you could join us.”

Akasha cast her serendipitous gaze on Bethany and smiled slightly.

“I’d rather not stand between you two,” she said softly, as she checked her swordbelts.

Fenris got up in time to shield blushing Bethany from the woman’s x-ray stare.

“I’m going too, it’s my place, so there’ll be nothing intimate at least until we reach the door,” he sneered, adjusting his huge sword.

Akasha chuckled good-naturedly.

“All right. Lead on.”

Half-way to Fenris’s house, Akasha stopped.

“Now I’m going to turn left here, so good night, folks.”

Hawke peered inside the dark alley.

“Are you sure, milady?”

“Yes.”

He hesitated.

“Fenris?...”

The elf sighed, annoyed.

“Yes, Hawke, of course. Come on, Bethany, let’s go home.”

Bethany turned to her brother.

“Be careful…”

He nodded to her and waved his hand.

When they were left alone, Akasha asked him:

“Why are you shading me, ser Hawke?”

The man shrugged and shook his head.

“I wish I knew.”

She smiled.

“I don’t know what I’m going to find at the end of that alley. Are you sure you wish to follow me?”

He nodded.

And then grabbed her into his arms and started roughly kissing her.

She did not resist but was not enthusiastic, either.

The man undid buttons of her jacket and revealed her small breasts, but still she did not resist.

“Why aren’t you fighting me?” he asked.

Akasha shrugged.

“I’m curious how far you would go to get my reaction.”

He stared at her.

“And if I go all the way?”

She shrugged carelessly again.

“You can’t understand me, and it bothers you. You may strip me stark naked and still you will not get any closer.”

He felt an impotent rage rising in him, and jerked her pants down. He felt two desires at once, to rape her, and to love her.

As if sensing his torment, the woman pressed to him and gave him a long kiss that melted the rage inside him.

Then she dropped her gear one by one to the ground, sat on the steps of a porch and took off her jacket and her pants, calmly displaying a triangle of her pubic hair on her naked body.

“Come,” she beckoned him, and Hawke, disbelieving what he was witnessing, approached.

His first instinct was to unzip his pants and stick his cock where it belonged, but instead he sat beside the woman and caressed her breasts and stomach.

She took his face between her palms and whispered:

“You are so handsome, Philip, so why do you think that nobody loves you?”

Her quiet words, like droplets of hot lava, burned him right through the heart.

He shuddered. And when the woman kissed him again, he melted.

He hugged her and pressed tightly against his chest, his heart pounding.

She was warm and possessed beautiful silky skin that rubbed against the coarse fabric of his jacket.

With a small regret, he parted with her body to remove his jacket.

“You’re even more gorgeous than I thought,” she whispered, stroking his abdomen muscles.

He felt a rush of such tender affection towards her that he caught his breath.

Akasha smiled and lovingly caressed his body.

“Yes you are. Magnificent and so beautiful inside. You shine like a star…”

They kissed so tenderly he felt like his heart would burst.

The woman smiled at him.

“Stars do not care if they are looked upon. It’s their nature to just shine.”

She kissed him again, and his heart started singing.

“I…” he struggled to find words. “I’m sorry to have assaulted you…”

She smiled.

“Are you assaulting me now?”

“No! No!”

“Then it’s all that matters. Kiss me.”

He obeyed, all his senses in bloom.

The time stretched, and the night sky rolled in its course, and somehow all the bandits of the neighborhood tended to avoid this particular dark alley.

Akasha moaned softly and pressed against his sculptured torso.

She felt growing impatience and excitement coursing through her body, but the man lingered.

“Why are you holding on?” she asked. “It will not become a profanity, don’t be afraid.”

Philip squeezed her body in his arms.

“I don’t know…” he muttered. “It feels like I’m holding the whole universe in the palms of my hands, and I’m afraid to let it go.”

Akasha laughed lightly.

“If you are afraid, then it surely will slip away from you. Move along with it and you’ll stay with it… And I must tell you, my universe is on fire right now!”

“Oh Maker!” Philip sighed. “Am I going mad?”

He continued kissing the woman even after their passion was satiated.

Akasha laughed.

“I don’t think so. But come, I need to enter that house before dawn.”

Philip caressed her, and kissed her, and squeezed her tightly.

“You are driving me crazy! I can’t think of anyone else but you!”

Akasha touched his iron-hard member.

“Indeed, it looks like we are not going anywhere for a while…”

She kissed him on the mouth.

The man moaned and replied to her kiss with such ardor, that it left Akasha breathless.

They made it clumsily, on the warm floor of the porch, gnawing and gripping at each other, unable to resist each other, forgetting their self, and feeling ultimate ecstasy in each moment.

Then they just lay there, Akasha caressing his light locks, his head lying on her chest.

”Just don’t forget," she whispered kindly. "You are not cast away from grace, you've never been. You are the Spirit's child, always."

Philip squeezed his eyes shut tightly and uttered:

”Then why it's so hard sometimes?"

The woman shrugged, a serene smile on her face.

"That's what you decided yourself. It's what you need now. And you are strong enough to overcome everything you set for yourself as a task."

Philip sighed.

"But how…"

"How do you know that the Spirit loves you?" ended Akasha for him, as if reading his thoughts. "Why, if you need an image for the Universe's love to you, so be it, this love can have my face. After all, it has crossed our paths just so you can have your proof."

Philip's eyes shone as he raised his head to look into her face.

Everything seemed so clear at that moment, so serene and full of grace.

"I want to follow you," he said resolutely.

Akasha laughed softly.

"You are needed here."

"I don't care."

She looked into his eyes.

"You can't see it right now, but the purpose of our meeting is not in its duration, but just to show you, who you can become when following your own way."

Philip swallowed, his eyes on her.

"I just wish to serve you."

Akasha sighed.

"If you arrive at seeing me in others, then better serve them."

Hawke felt something close to panic inside him.

"So you _**are**_ casting me away!"

The woman laughed lightly.

"Don't be ridiculous. Not now, not ever. You are already a Master of Life, you just need to learn how to translate yourself to others."

"How do you mean?"

"By accepting and respecting others' ways. For example, if you accept that your mother will never forgive you but love her anyway, without suffering… well, miracles happen more frequently than you think."

At first, Philip wanted to ask how she knew about his mother, but then remembered she had seen his sister and guessed right about the nature of their connection on the second minute of their talk.

Akasha smiled.

"Imagine that we are all foam, like in a bath, a multitude of bubbles, within bubbles and still yet other bubbles… Each bubble is a universe in itself, we may stick for a while to each other but we still remain our own bubbles, with our own trajectories and paths. We move on with our lives, but we still remain connected to each other by means of other bubbles… After all, we are all foam!"

She giggled unexpectedly and lifted her torso to seat.

"I'm starting blabbering and it's a sure sign of a closing dawn. I need to get going."

They started collecting their clothing and gear and putting it on.

"So…" Philip hesitated, "…may I go with you?"

Akasha shrugged.

"If you want to. But just so you know, I'm married to king Alistair, and Zevran is my lover. Will you survive such competition?"

Hawke cringed at first but then shook himself up.

"I'll see if _**they**_ can survive this competition."

Akasha laughed.

"That's the spirit!"

They were already fully clothed, when Philip clasped her in an embrace.

"Why is that I feel equal to you?" he asked, looking her it the eyes.

She smiled.

"Because you decided so, and because you can be my peer."

Philip grinned happily.

"I feel like on the top of a mountain!"

Akasha smiled.

"Careful, soldier, or you will waste it. Feelings that you've got now are precious. Leave them inside to warm you, instead of spending them aimlessly."

Philip kissed her on the lips with all respect and care he was feeling.

"You are amazing."

She smiled.

"Let's go."

They went by a few houses before knocking on the door of another one.

Strangely enough, Philip thought he noticed Akasha tighten a bit.

In a minute, they heard some shuffling on the other side then silence, then the door opened.

A Chasind bearded man in his early forties stood there, and his beerbelly could not mislead anyone into thinking he was out of shape, for his whole figure exuded such power that weaker people would just run away at the mere sight of him.

He scoped them at a glance, then unexpectedly grinned and opened his huge arms towards Akasha.

"My dear girl!" he hugged her very cordially. "Right on time for the morning tea. Come on in!"

She hung on his mighty frame, whispering in relief:

"Osaado! I missed you so much!" and she broke down in tears to the huge surprise of Philip, who stood behind her, flabbergasted.

"Aw," the Chasind uttered. "There you go…"

Then such calm settled over both guests that Akasha's tears dried right away. She sighed.

"Sorry. It's just such a relief to see you!"

"Come," the man patted her shoulder, "Let me pour some tea for you and your friend."

They sat by the hearth, holding their cups.

"I've heard you stopped the Blight," said their host, calmly stroking his beard.

Akasha shrugged. Clearly, she wasn’t interested in that story anymore.

"And I still feel small when I meet you."

The man's unhurried, even lazy gestures and sharp stare made Philip uncomfortable. Their host made him stay constantly on his guard.

"You and your pride," sighed the man, shaking his head and sipping his tea. "Always judging, always comparing. Drop it already. You are here, I'm here, what else needs to be?"

And Philip felt as if he were on a nice forest clearing, near a spring. It felt so natural, so in balance…

"Your mind creeps always back between you and the world," quietly said the man, no trace of disapproval in his tone, but Akasha sighed deeply.

"I'm so tired," she said, her head low.

The man cackled and put his cup on the table.

"You are tired of your own head, dear girl. See that cup? Is it tired? No? Then why should you be tired? If you want to be with me then why you left?"

"I needed to go."

"And now you needed to come back. There is nothing more to it. Stop all those 'what ifs' for a second, and be here with me. Now!"

And Philip suddenly felt their own presence so sharply that he almost dropped to the floor.

Their host cast a sideward glance at him and 'huh'ed:

"Eh, your friend here has guts. Maybe I should teach him instead?"

Akasha sighed and looked the man in the eyes.

"Drop it, Osaado. I'm just happy to see you. Pour me some more tea, please."

The Chasind nodded approvingly, poured her tea and grinned.

"Finally this self-pity party is over. Will you guys stay for breakfast?"

She nodded.

"I love you, Osaado," she was dozing off on his chest.

The Chasind sighed and tousled her hair. She did not hear his answer, but she clearly felt it.


End file.
